Checklists and Books
by DWBean
Summary: Clara's continually running a mental checklist on the differences between 11 and 12. Contains fluff, a bit of angst, jealousy and of course TARDIS meddling. 12/Clara (WARNING: There is a Fault in Our Stars spoiler)


**A whouffaldi fic I wrote after seeing the filming and 12's already obvious soft spot for Clara. And also, there are nowhere near enough Whouffaldi fic's on this website!**

It had taken Clara a while to get used to this new Doctor. She guessed she stopped expecting to see the bowtie wearing idiot whenever she ran into the ship after about two months. However, one habit she persisted to continue was to create a mental checklist in the differences between the Doctors's. This list was endlessly growing and was probably endlessly infinite. So far she had noted that the new Doctor was more rough and harsh to random people when the other Doctor would have been goofy and welcoming. However, this new Doctor was kinder to her than the other Doctor had been. Before, he was very open to contact however now he was kinder in a subtle sense. He did little kind gestures that would make Clara happier than anything the other Doctor had done. They had returned from fighting Robots with Robin Hood when Clara had decided to go to the library. However, she had found someone had beaten her to it.

"Ah. Hello." Clara stopped, repositioning her book underneath her arm to stop her from dropping her hot cup of tea. The Doctor was sitting in the huge red armchair reading a book from some distant planet in some distant language. He had glasses perched on his nose and he glanced up at her when she entered.

"Hello." He replied tightly causing Clara to fidget under his gaze. They both remained awkwardly still, neither of them sure how to talk to each other yet.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asked, a bemused smile playing on his lips as he gestured to the smaller chair next to him. Clara hated how childish that action had made her feel, causing her bubble with anger.

"Yes," She answered quickly, sitting sideways in the chair so her back was to him. She took her book out from underneath her arm and flicked to the page she was on. She started to make notes in the margin so she knew what to cover with her class whenever she went back. For a few minutes they both sat in silence until The Doctor put his book down and folded his glasses on top of them. He rested his arms onto the armrest and then looked at Clara as she focused on her book. Clara felt him looking at her, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. She tried to refocus on her book but his grey-blue eyes remaining on her was beginning to become unsettling.

"What?" Clara asked. It wasn't vicious but more of an amused curiosity. She put the book down and turned around, folding her legs underneath her and resting her elbow against the chair. The Doctor raised one of his eyebrows at her sudden but welcome change of mood.

"What are you reading?" he asked, gesturing to the book. She grinned and then handed it to him.

"The Time Machine, by H.G Wells. It's brilliant, you should definitely read it," she enthused, tapping the book which was resting on his legs.

"Clara, who do you think the Time Traveller _was_?" He asked, raising one eyebrow at her. Her eyes widened as she grabbed the book from his lap and quickly flipped through it.

"Oh my stars! _You're _the Time Traveller! With the Eloi and the Morlocks?" Clara asked, looking between the book and him. She supposed the outfit described in the book was pretty similar to his predecessor. And he had been living above Victorian London at the time…

"Yes. Also, the large crabs were actually the invasion of the Macra in the year three million. All the humans had left by that point." He explained as he watched Clara piece together all the different facts, still completely astounded. Then she laughed and put the book down on the table.

"Well, I'm definitely not teaching it now," She smirked, folding her arms.

"Why not?" He asked, somewhat deflated.

"I'm not teaching a book about you, you big egotist," She exclaimed. The corners of his mouth twitched as he slipped his glasses back on.

"In which case you can't teach a book about yourself, either," He replied, picking up his book quietly. Clara snorted and then took the book from his hands. He didn't look too pleased.

"Do you mind? I was reading that!" He proclaimed, making a grab for the book. Clara turned away from him, the book still clutched in her hand.

"No, I don't mind." She retorted childishly, quickly memorising the page number the Doctor was on and then flipped through the book.

"Clara, stop being such a child and give me the bloody book!" He snapped. His sudden change of tone caused Clara to quickly turn around and sheepishly hand him the book. He quirked an eyebrow and she felt a flush rise to her cheeks like she was a child and had just been scolded for something.

"Alright, Mr. Grumpy," She murmured, pushing herself off the chair. She heard a small chuckle behind her as she ventured into the library to find another book to read.

It quickly became a ritual for them. They retreated into the library after an adventure as a way to calm down and relax. Clara could prepare for her next few lessons or catch up on some books she had meant to read while he _tried _to read but more often than not, he was interrupted by his small companion. Not that he really minded.

"Doctor?" Clara asked, looking up from her tattered version of _Summer _by Edith Wharton, a book she was teaching her Year 10's. He smirked and then looked up from his book.

"What, Clara?" He replied, closing his book. It was still the same book as the one he had been reading when she first came in those few weeks ago, but he hadn't managed to read more than a paragraph each sitting.

"Could you read to me?" She asked, stifling a yawn. His eyebrows furrowed at her request.

"Read to you? Why would you want me to do that?" He asked, trying now not to yawn himself. She looked slightly startled and disappointed at his response.

"Oh, okay. Never mind. Sorry!" She apologised quickly before curling back into her ball on the chair and resuming her place in her book. He felt a pang of remorse as he watched her curl back into herself. He sighed and put his book back down, still having progressed no further than he had since last week.

"Give it here," He mumbled, still good-naturedly however. She smiled but then shook her head.

"No, from your book. I know what happens in this one!" She almost giggled if she wasn't as tired.

"Beggars can't be choosers," he retorted, reaching for his book.

"I'm not begging. I'm just choosing," She replied, yawning again. He shook his head to himself and then turned to the first page. He started reading out loud as Clara curled up in her chair, her head on the armrest and sock-clad feet hanging over the other side. She found his Scottish lull soothing and her eyes slowly started to droop while he was describing the landscape of the twelfth moon of Felhar, where the book was set. He hadn't noticed, actually quite enjoying the book when he had the chance to get into it. He heard a little snuffling noise and then a little snore which snapped him out of the book. He looked over to the small brunette and saw her fast asleep on the chair. As much as he tried not to, his heart warmed at the sight. She looked so peaceful asleep, so much so he was afraid to move in case he woke her up. He realised he was being stupid and then got up to put his book away. He considered carrying her to her bedroom but as light as she was, his back wouldn't be able to do it. Instead, he opted for taking the comforter from the sofa on the other side of the library and draping it over her. He carefully slipped _Summer _from her grip and folded the page over and left it on the coffee table. Smiling to himself slightly, he walked out of the library.

Clara awoke later to be pleasantly surprised by the comforter. Those were the kind gestures that the other him wouldn't have done. As she slowly lifted her head, she saw a little sticky note attached to her book. Her eyebrows furrowed and she leaned forward to read it.

_Didn't realise I was so boring! Anyway, I'm just going out to get something, there's flour, eggs and milk in the kitchen. Try not to set everything on fire. _

_-D_

Clara laughed at the post it note and peeled it off the book cover, putting it safely on the inside cover. Still, she left the library to get dressed and make a soufflé. The Doctor seemed to have a new taste for it, and was secretly pleased when she walked into the console room brandishing a next to perfect one.

He came back just as she finished the soufflé and was carrying two bags worth of something. He put them on the kitchen counter just as she took her soufflé out of the oven.

"You made one! And the kitchens not on fire. _And _it doesn't resemble charcoal," he teased, taking off his jacket. Clara mock glared at him as she set it on the counter.

"I could take this soufflé away and eat it by myself!" she protested, while taking two spoons out of the drawer and giving him one. She noticed the two bags and gestured to them as she scooped a bit of soufflé in her mouth.

"What are they?" she mumbled through a full mouth.

"Finish eating first," he scolded and Clara rolled her eyes and then swallowed the soufflé.

"What are they?" she repeated. He smiled and then walked over to them.

"When I put your book on the coffee table, this fell out," He said, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. He opened it and Clara recognised it to be her list of books that she wanted to buy.

"You didn't!" She exclaimed, jumping off the stool and walking over to the bags. Peering inside them, she found all the books that she had wanted inside.

"Well obviously, I did," He affirmed causing Clara to giggle at his new found sarcasm.

"Thank you!" She laughed, throwing her arms around his neck to give him a hug. Unfortunately, due to their height difference, she had to stand on her tiptoes and he had to bend over slightly. Even though so much had changed since his last body, he still didn't know how to respond to spontaneous hugs. His arms remained rigid for a moment before he gently patted her back awkwardly. She let go, and then walked back over to the books with a grin on her face and a blush sitting on her cheeks. Strangely, The Doctor found it almost endearing.

"I don't know about you, but that's a good soufflé that I'm not wasting," He commented, moving back over to the food and eating another spoonful. She quickly joined him and they polished off the soufflé in under ten minutes, ready and fed to go on their next adventure.

It was a few days later when Clara was curled up in her chair and he was in his when he heard a sound he never wanted to hear again. _Clara was crying. _ His eyes snapped up and he quickly saw her shaking form.

"Clara? What's wrong?" He asked, worried something was seriously wrong. She looked up at him, her eyes red rimmed and cheeks stained with tears.

"Bloody John Green." She murmured, wiping a few tears away. His eyebrows knitted together as he shook his head to show that he wasn't following. "Did he have to kill him?"

"Clara, what are you wittering about?" He demanded, exasperated at her puzzling answers.

"Augustus! Augustus died! That's just…mean!" She cried, another sob wracking her body. The Doctor was taken aback by her reason and quickly took the book from her hand entitled '_The Fault in Our Stars'._

"_There are an infinite set of numbers between 0 and 1. There's .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course there is a bigger set of infinite numbers between 0 and 2. Or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. A writer we used to like taught us that. There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set…but Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. You gave me forever within numbered days. And I am grateful." _Something about that quote struck home with him as he read it off, causing him to look at his now sobbing companion. He put the book down on the floor, almost feeling guilty for buying her a book that made her so upset.

"Clara, they're only fictional characters," He reasoned but was met with a tear filled glare.

"You can shut right up!" She growled, rubbing her eyes again. He was quickly running out of ideas so he did the only thing he could think of.

"Come here," he mumbled. Clara looked at him, shocked, while tears were still falling out of her eyes. She didn't need to be told twice as she clambered over her chair and quickly flung her legs over the side of The Doctor's chair and sat on his lap, resting her head against his chest. At first, he was tense as she started to stop crying. He brought one hand up and stroked her hair as a way of comforting her. Upon doing that, she started to calm down quite quickly. She nestled into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him that was the same as the old him, but with something new and different. That was like the whole of the new Doctor, really. Crying over fictional characters had really taken a toll on her, as he discovered, when he had a lightly sleeping brunette resting on him. This time he was really stuck. He reached over and picked up the book she was reading to see if it was actually that sad. Three hours later, he discovered that it pretty much was. Though, he wasn't a sobbing mess like Clara was, obviously. He threw the book back onto the floor and then leaned the side of his face against the top of Clara's head, dozing off himself.

After that night, Clara seemed to always find an excuse to rest on his lap while he read her something. She enjoyed resting her head against his chest and listening to his double heartbeat while hearing his Glaswegian accent transform the blandest of stories to masterpieces. He didn't mind it either, enjoying her company. He realised that he had an immense soft spot for the young woman and she could probably get away with anything.

Then Danny Pink decided to enter their lives. Clara had told him that she was going on a date with him after The Doctor had finished reading her a chapter of an Agatha Christie novel. The Doctor couldn't have made his distaste more obvious if he had tried. He had dropped Clara off on the date, ignoring how she had looked in the blue dress and probably too high stiletto heels. He had joked about her coming back on time and then made sure that she was in the restaurant safely. He didn't know why he was so pleased when she had come back in at 10.30 declaring the date hadn't gone well. Ten minutes later, she was sitting on his lap again while he read her _A Tale of Two Cities. _She was still in that blue dress which meant that The Doctor had to try immensely hard not to get distracted by the smooth skin at the top of her back. Normally she was wearing collared dresses or shirts which meant that this was the most he'd seen of her.

"What went wrong with the date?" He muttered against her forehead sometime after he'd finished reading.

"He's was nice, but there wasn't anything there," She explained. Of course, she neglected to mention how she kept on comparing everything Danny did to The Doctor. She had spent the entire evening wishing she was curled up with The Doctor while he read her something. That was why there was nothing for Danny.

Somehow, Danny had ended up travelling with them. The Doctor was worried that him travelling would affect his relationship with Clara. So, he was more than pleased when she padded into the library with pyjamas on, her hair in a ponytail and a book in her hand. She curled up onto The Doctor's lap, both of them failing to notice Danny spot them from the hallway. Danny had guessed there was something going on between the two of them, and that confirmed it. He felt a burn of jealousy before a self-sacrificing feeling of contentment as he watched Clara become peaceful as she rested against The Doctor. He guessed he wanted her to be happy, if she didn't want to be with him.

What the pair of them found was that the TARDIS had started to mess with them. Lock them into small spaces, turn Clara's room into a closet, black the lights out everywhere. Of course, Clara being both claustrophobic and afraid of the dark, it wasn't too pleasant. The first time was when Clara was cooking something for dinner and The Doctor was sitting at the counter, both of them idly chatting. Suddenly the cooker disappeared, as did the rest of the cupboards and counters.

"Doctor…?" she asked, trying not to sound as angry as she was. The dinner was surely going to burn. They both went for the door but stopped when they realised it wasn't there. The walls were closing in. Clara was already panicking.

"Calm down, Clara, she's not going to kill us." He tried to reassure her as all the walls were coming in closer and closer. "…I think."

"_I THINK? _Oh great!" Clara yelled, her breaths quickening. True to The Doctor's words, the walls had stopped moving. However, they were so close that Clara was pressed into The Doctor as there was no room anywhere else. Clara was close to a panic attack as she leaned her head against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut.

"It'll be fine. She'll let us out soon," he explained, trying to awkwardly get some distance between him and Clara. There really was no room for manoeuvre. As soon as The Doctor saw moisture in the corner of Clara's closed eyes, he wrapped his arms around her, bringing her even closer to him. She calmed down after that, focusing on his double heartbeat and slightly irregular breathing. The ship had decided to give up whatever it was trying to achieve and let the walls ping back, the kitchen return and the dinner, as Clara had predicted, burnt.

"Right, that's it. We're going out for dinner." The Doctor declared, letting go of Clara and chucking the burnt chicken in the frying pan into the bin. She nodded in agreement, catching her breath back.

It was just after Clara had woken up that she had walked into the console room after getting dressed to chat to The Doctor while he did whatever maintenance he needed to do. It was in that moment that all the lights turned off, The Doctor quickly lifting his head up and banging his head against the console. Swearing, he looked around but it was absolutely pitch black. Even his eyes wouldn't adjust, let alone Clara's.

"Clara? Are you okay?" He asked blindly into the abyss of the unknown in front of him.

"Apart from the fact that I can't see a single thing and could be attacked at any moment? Yeah, I'm okay." She replied. He followed her voice, his hands tracing along the console. He had to let go and walk forward blindly until he hit a wall or railing. He hit a railing, his hands running along it as he walked slowly.

"Where are you?" he asked. She replied and he was a lot closer than he thought he was. Reaching out, his hand found the top of a head. A head that screamed.

"Don't _do _that!" she hissed while he chuckled. He traced his fingers down the side of her face and then found her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. At least they wouldn't get separated.

"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?" he asked her, feeling her fingers shake in his clasp.

"Isn't everyone?" she replied quietly. That was always something he had admired about Clara. Her ability to think philosophically even in the direst of moments.

"I suppose. I just need to find out what caused the lights to turn off." He explained, squeezing her hand to let her know he was still there.

"You mean, you didn't do this?" She yelped.

"I think the TARDIS did. For some reason she's doing this again. WHAT DO YOU WANT?" he yelled at the ship. They heard a movement in the corner of the room and The Doctor heard Clara audibly gulp.

"It's okay, it's nothing. For some reason, the ship IS BEING A BITCH!" he kicked the console, eliciting a gasp of pain as it hurt his foot more than it did the console. There was a whisper on the other side of the room to the noise and he felt Clara shaking at his side. He knew that it was the TARDIS – there was nothing in this ship. Well, apart from a Lion and a goldfish but the lion would have made its presence known. He just needed to distract Clara. He wrapped his arms around her again, trying to reassure her. It wasn't working, she was properly frightened as voices, whispers and movement could be heard. Therefore, he did the only thing he could think of.

With his spare arm, he brought his hand up to her cheek, cupping it. Getting a general idea of where her face was, he leaned down, crashing his lips to hers. She froze for a moment before wrapping her arms around his neck. His one hand was on her cheek while he used the other one to bring her in closer. It seemed to do the trick. She had forgotten completely about the voices and noises, focusing fully on the kiss. She tasted sweet and of peppermint as she must have just brushed her teeth after getting ready.

Suddenly the lights turned on again, shining brightly into The Doctor and Clara's darkness adjusted eyes. They broke apart the minutes the lights had turned on, both looking at the console. Slowly their eyes fell back down to each other, both slightly dishevelled with swollen lips. Clara was blushing quite profusely causing him to smile. She smiled back, dimples showing on the side of her cheeks and her eyes bright.

"Well then, cocktails on the moon?" he asked.

It was later on after they had both returned tipsy from their excursion and they were back in their normal places in the library that they breached the subject of the kiss again.

"D'you think that was what the TARDIS was trying to do?" Clara asked, a slight slur in her voice. The Doctor looked directly at her, confused.

"What'dyou think the TARDIS was trying te do?" he replied, equally slurry. She noticed that his Scottish accent was stronger when he was drunk.

"Make us kiss!" she exclaimed happily, looking back at him. He pondered the idea for a moment.

"Yeah, maybe," he replied.

"Well, we can't disappoint her," Clara hinted, The Doctor quickly catching on.

"No, I don't think we can," he smirked. She laughed and brought his lips down to hers, kissing him more softly than earlier. That was another thing she noted down in her mental checklist. – This Doctor made her feel more loved. And then she scrapped the checklist.


End file.
